


Christmas Morning Curiosity

by BlaiddDrwg1982



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: 12 Days of Sterek, Christmas Fluff, M/M, Sneaky Stiles Stilinski
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-16
Updated: 2017-12-16
Packaged: 2019-02-07 11:30:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,218
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12840231
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlaiddDrwg1982/pseuds/BlaiddDrwg1982
Summary: Every year Derek spends Christmas morning away from Stiles, and gives no indication as to what he is doing. Stiles' curiosity finally gets the best of him, so he enlists Lydia to help him stalk his husband. What secrets could Derek be keeping after all these years.





	Christmas Morning Curiosity

**Author's Note:**

> Submitted for the 12 Days of Sterek, Christmas 2017 edition. I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it.
> 
> Of course, I do not own the characters or the universe I drew inspiration from.
> 
> Please don't sue. I'm poor.

Stiles stretched out in the bed, feeling the furnace that was Derek laying beside him, facing the opposite wall. Tracing the spirals of Derek’s tattoo, he smiled to himself at the grumpy growl he was greeted with. Pressing a kiss to the centre of it, the growl in response was at least somewhat less annoyed. Squeezing Derek tightly, he inched back so Derek could lay on his back. Cuddling up close, he draped his arm across Derek’s chest, tracing his fingers through the bit of scruff that had finally grown back after their last encounter with a Fire Demon. Derek’s epic eyebrows escaped un-singed by some miracle. 

“You sure you don’t want to come over earlier?”

They’d had this conversation every Christmas for the last 5 years. They spend the afternoon of Christmas Day at the Stilinski residence, Stiles heading over shortly after they wake up, and Derek always arriving at 12 o’clock on the dot. Derek’s mornings were a mystery that he wasn’t willing to share. He’d let slip that sometimes he saw Peter or Cora if she was in town. Stiles chalked it up to him not wanting to be around family in the morning, as Christmas used to be a big deal when the Hales were still alive. 

“Quiet mornings Love. I’ll be there at noon. Give my regards to your Dad though. You should spend the morning with him.”

Same conversation. Same words. Every year, without fail. Exchanging a kiss, Derek reluctantly pulled back and slid out from under the covers. Watching the morning light fall on Derek’s bare ass, Stiles sighed softly, feeling like the luckiest man in the world. Looking at the gold wedding band on his left ring finger, he smiled. Definitely the luckiest man in the world. Hearing the shower start, Stiles rolled over in the bed and saw a blinking notification waiting for him. Opening it up, there was a text message waiting there from Lydia.  
_L: Still on?_

_S: Definitely._

Tucking the phone away, he watched in silence as Derek got dressed, getting ready to head out. Smiling at the cup of coffee that appeared, perfectly prepared, on his side of the bed, he swore it was some kind of werewolf mind trick that kept him from seeing it. Derek would always laugh and shake his head. Unless Stiles’ life was being threatened, he wasn’t the most observant first thing in the morning. Tilting his head up to accept the kiss goodbye, he hummed happily to himself as he drank his coffee and had a quick shower. Dressing quickly, he dabbed on some mint and eucalyptus which Derek had told him muted his scent to werewolves.

Throwing the door open to the loft, Lydia walked in like she owned the place. Skinny jeans, practical boots, and a very expensive peacoat with a white knit beret completed the look. She was pale as always, though her red lips stood out in stark contrast to her alabaster skin. Smiling warmly, she gave Stiles a hug.

“How’s Jordan?”

Lydia grinned broadly.

“He’s wonderful, thanks for asking. How’s Derek?”

“Fantastic as always. Ready to go?”

“You’re the one not wearing socks Stiles.”

Snickering, he went and finished getting ready. Looking at Lydia, his eyes were drawn to the growing belly. Not exactly an expected pregnancy, but a very welcome one. Lydia’s research projects wouldn’t be interfered and she’d been contracted to write a math text book when she was on her maternity leave, with a flexible deadline. When you were dealing with the generation’s foremost expert in multivariable calculus, you learned how to be flexible with your time tables.

“Now. Remind me why we’re doing this Stiles?”

Tying his boots, he looked up at her.

“I worry about him. He spends every Christmas morning alone. When he comes over to Dad’s place, he seems like he’s in a pretty good mood but I can’t quite put my finger on what it is that’s bugging me. He seems a little off for a bit. So. Yes. I’m spying on my husband and seeing if there’s anything I can actually help him with that he isn’t talking about.”

Satisfied with that explanation, she pulled on her gloves.

“How do you know where he’s going?”

“Find my Phone feature on his cell.”

“You’re kind of weird Stiles.”

“I know.”

Chuckling, they made their way to the parking garage. Bypassing his beloved Jeep that stood out like a sore thumb on the streets, he opted instead for the SUV Derek bought him as a “Happy Tuesday I’m Sorry Your Work Day Was Shit” present. It was simple and nondescript and blended in with every other car on the road. Pulling up the app on his phone, he saw the blinking indicator showing that Derek had pulled into whatever the most politically correct description for an orphanage was. 

Putting the vehicle in gear, he pulled out into traffic, flicking through the stations until he found the Christmas station. Watching carefully out of the corner of his eye, he saw Lydia idly rubbing her bump.

“How’s everything going?”

Lydia shrugged with a smile, pulling a ginger ale out of her purse.

“Little Bump here didn’t get the memo that morning sickness wasn’t supposed to be as bad in the second trimester, but otherwise I can’t really complain. Seems to mute some of my visions which I’m okay with. The less stress the better. Jordan being in law enforcement is stressful enough. Despite being a Hell Hound. And then there’s you.”

“What about me.”

“FBI Stiles. What can I say? We worry about Uncle Stiles. Why couldn’t you have become a teacher like Derek?”

“At Beacon Hills High School where there has been so much violence it costs a fortune to insure?”

Lydia paused for a moment, and nodded her head.

“Good point.”

Parking a couple blocks away, they made the rest of the journey by foot. Luckily there wasn’t a lot of snow on the ground, but the air was still crisp and clean. Pulling his collar up against the wind, he saw Lydia re-wrap her scarf, cheeks going a little red at the nip in the wind. 

Recognizing Derek’s car, Stiles also saw Peter’s truck parked in the visitor parking spot. Feeling his eyebrows jump a little, he didn’t realize Peter was even in town. Last he’d heard, Peter was overseeing some business venture on the east coast. 

Entering the building, it was reasonably quiet, though he had a feeling everyone was gathered in the auditorium that had been added to the building about 3 years ago, courtesy of the Laura Hale Foundation that paid for the upkeep of this facility. Derek, in and amongst grading papers, also created and chaired a couple different charities in his family’s name. After supernaturals had been outed in Beacon Hills a number of years ago, and the truth behind the Hale Family and the Hale Fire had been learned, Derek stepped into the community as a protector. Not just as a wolf like his Mother, but he was a champion of youth and those in need. 

Listening to the excited calls of the little children in the distance, Lydia and Stiles followed the noise, carefully stepping out of the way of the first train of kids that went shrieking down the hallway. Watching the girls and boys who couldn’t be older than 5, something twisted in Stiles’ guts. If they were here that meant…

He felt the pinpricks of tears starting. These kids had faced tragedy that he’d only seen. It was hard enough shaking those thoughts from the field. These were the faces he didn’t see very often. Taking a moment to collect his thoughts, he looked up at Lydia who was covering her bump quite protectively. The same thought seems to have crossed her mind as well. Pressing on, he took her hand, giving it a firm squeeze. It had already been agreed that if anything unfortunate happened to her and Jordan, their little one would go and live with Uncle Derek and Uncle Stiles. 

Inching closer to the Auditorium, Stiles reached out and went to open the door before he found his hand being held an inch from the latch. Looking up the arm at the person who had a vice like grip, he was far beyond amused to see Peter standing there, dressed in red and green, dressed like an elf of all things, complete with the ears. The amusement dampened down a little bit at the less than thrilled look on his face when he met Stiles’ gaze.

“Don’t.”

“But.”

“Do. Not. Derek will not thank you if you go in there. Husband or not.”

Stiles pulled his hand back. 

“Just…be quiet. Take a look. And then get the hell out of here.”

Lydia and Stiles exchanged a look. It wasn’t very often that Peter was this sneaky. Not for a long time, and these days, only for good reason. This was something definitely a bit odd to be getting defensive about. Peter opened the door enough for them to peek in. At the head of the room was a veritable feast laid out, tables and chairs arranged for a casual family dinner, granted this family was absolutely massive. An overly ornate chair was up ahead, with someone dressed in red, ringing bells and “Ho Ho Ho”-ing to the delight of the kids who were gathered around. 

It took a second for Stiles to recognize who was dressed from top to bottom in a Santa Suit. His beard had even been chalked to snowy white. Somehow it wasn’t transferring to the Santa suit he was wearing. Stiles would have to be blind to not recognize his husband’s eyes though. Derek, the usual dour wolf, was sitting in an orphanage, dressed like Santa, inviting any of the kids who wanted to, to sit on his lap and make their Christmas wish. Most every single one of them asked for a house of their own, but failing that, some kind of toy, or clothing, or something else just for them. 

Stiles heart just about broke when one little boy asked for his sister to be there with them, and judging by the look in Derek’s eyes, he knew that wouldn’t be possible. Unable to hear what Derek whispered to the boy in response, it must have been the right thing, because even though there were some unshed tears in the boys eyes, he gave Derek a blindingly large smile, and a hug tight enough to pop a mere mortals head from their shoulders. Stiles saw his eyes though. Derek was hurting, even if he was all smiles and laughter. 

Peter pulled the door closed and looked at Stiles and Lydia, the look of sadness on his face.

“About 5 years ago or so, Derek started to volunteer down here, usually dressing as Santa though there have been a few times he threatened me bodily to get into the red suit. Hence the elf ears. I’d rather be the happy elf than get that close to the children.”

Lydia scowled at him just slightly. “Too messy?”

Sneering right back at her. “Too painful. Some of them are not much older than my own children were when the fire happened. I’ll gladly come down here, play games, and be Silly Uncle Peter for all the kids that are in there. Even the one dressed in a red suit, ringing the bells, and doing everything he can to make the little ones’ day a little brighter.” 

Lydia looked suitably chastised at that. They all seemed to forget from time to time that Peter had lost people in the fire as well. His psychotic break tended to factor into that part, but he was better now. It was hard sometimes to remember that though. 

“But how Derek can stand to have his heart stomped on and torn up every single time one of the kids asks for their family back, I can’t understand.”

Peter looked at Stiles and shrugged.

“Then again, maybe I can. So Derek comes here, and tells stories, and plays games and memorizes the list of toys that all the children ask for, or the books, and I take these lists, spend a lot of money and make a good Christmas happen for these little ones because that’s what every child deserves. Christmas was a big thing in the Hale house. It was Derek’s favourite holiday, and Talia’s. Not the presents, but being together, the whole Pack, humans and werewolves, it was the most joyous time of the year. Derek lost that, for a long time. I had lost that, for even longer.”

Stiles looks to the ceiling, not even bothering trying to hide the fact he was crying silently now. Feeling Lydia’s arm wrap around his waist, he was actually surprised to find Peter, Sassy Uncle Peter, pulling him into a hug. Taking a moment, he slowly returned the hug. Since he and Derek started dating, and then later got married, he’d had a bit of a strained relationship with his husband’s uncle. In the last few years though, Peter had come through with information that helped cases Stiles had been working on. Giving Peter a questioning look, Peter stepped back and brushed off some invisible lint from Stiles shoulder.

“You remind us that even with everything we’ve lost Stiles, that we can still have family ties. And, despite everything, even I can. Now. You two get out of here. Well. You three. Merry Christmas. And remember. Not a word.”

Shooing them out the door, Peter took a moment and regained his composure. Throwing the door wide open, Stiles and Lydia heard a slew of excited shrieks and a chorus of “Uncle Peter!!!” Looking back, they saw a broad smile on Peter’s face, with a little girl dressed in a pink princess dress hanging onto his neck with all her strength. 

It took a lot to reconcile the image of what Peter must have been as a happy family man before tragedy had decimated his mind. Years and years of therapy and death threats were needed to get him here, but when they looked back at him and saw the genuine happiness on his face being buried under little kids, it wasn’t much of a stretch to think of what it could have been like if things hadn’t happened as they did. 

Making their trek back to the SUV in silence, they hopped in and looked at the clock. Still a few hours until Stiles had to pick up his dad at the Station. Looking at Lydia, he gave her hand a squeeze. She could chalk it up to hormones if she were of the mind to, but it was pretty evident that the scene they just witnessed that she was just as touched as he was.

“You married Santa.”

“I…married Santa.”

Lydia chuckled and shook her head. Stiles had been entirely mentally prepared to witness Derek hanging out at the remains of the Hale House, or in the cemetery where there were grave stones marking the empty plot of where Derek’s parents would have been interred. They were not expecting what they had seen. 

“You freaking married Santa.”

“I really did didn’t I. He’s even managed to get Peter into the Christmas spirit.”

Pulling out his cellphone, he opened the messenger app.

_S: You’re coming over with Derek._

_P: I’m doing what now?_

_S: Christmas. My Dad’s place. You’re coming._

_P: Do I try and argue?_

_S: …_

_P: I’ll be there after I take care of the Christmas lists._

Stiles texted him the address and stuffed his phone back in his pocket. Looking in the vanity mirror, Stiles’ eyes were puffy and a little bloodshot. He always had ugly post-cry face that was all but impossible to hide. Especially from Derek. Opening his mouth to say something, he saw Derek up ahead getting into his car, dressed back in his regular clothes, though his beard was still white as can be. Slinking down in the SUV, he saw Derek pull out and drive the opposite direction from what Stiles had anticipated. 

“We’re not still going to follow the guy are we?”

“Well…I mean…why not at this point? What’s the worst thing that can happen. I find out he’s delivering meals to the Senior’s Home and then heading to put in some time at the Hospital?”

***

After they’d watched Derek unload tray after tray of food at the Beacon Hills Seniors Centre, and witness him get his cheeks pinched by half a dozen little old Grannies, Stiles felt Lydia’s judging gaze on him.

“You married a fucking saint, Stiles. I’m almost feeling like I’m going to go to hell for spying on someone volunteering at an Orphanage and then an Old Age home on Christmas with his husband who was curious about what he does on Christmas mornings.”

Yet, she didn’t protest when he pulled into the parking lot outside the Talia Hale wing of the Beacon Hills General Hospital. This wing was exclusively dedicated to children and seniors care, drawing its funding out of an endowment fund large enough to generate more income than it spent. A chunk of that was from Derek and Peter, but they’d also tapped into all of the various Packs and contacts that Talia had garnered while she was alive. The 4th and 8th floor of the building were also dedicated to health care for Supernaturals. This was where Lydia’s midwife practised out of. 

Getting out of the Rav 4, Lydia followed Stiles to the general entrance which had been bedecked in various holiday decor to welcome anyone who did or did not celebrate at this time of year. Hiding and watching Derek get on the elevator, they saw that it stopped on the top floor. 

Maternity. 

Not only did it afford a beautiful view of the city, but the windows and ceilings were specifically designed to allow for a large amount of natural sunlight to come in, which they found helped if a baby was born with some mild jaundice. 

It also housed the paediatric oncology ward on the opposite side. 

Entering the Ward, conveniently also crossing a few wards as they went, their path was blocked by Derek’s younger sister.

“Uncle Peter told me you’d probably show up. Spying on your husband. Isn’t that a little tacky?”

Stiles rolled his eyes and pulled his pain in the ass sister in law into a hug. She reluctantly allowed it. Giving Lydia a look, Cora couldn’t help but chuckle.

“And I see he’s being a bad influence on you too.”

Lydia chuckled and nodded, giving the globetrotting Hale a hug as well.

Escorting them down the hallway, Cora was likely not going to let them interfere with whatever it was that Derek was here to do.

“Why are you spying on him Stiles?”

“Just…curious to see why Derek’s always alone Christmas morning but I definitely see that he isn’t.”

Cora shook her head.

“Nope. Definitely not. He didn’t always do stuff like this, but he’s always done something.”

“So what is he up to here?”

Cora indicated a big picture window looking in on one of the communal rooms that had a number of kids and their parents sitting around, enjoying some food. Derek had a book open on his lap, some of the kids milling about his feet. Every now and again, as Derek was reading aloud, he would hold the hands of one of the children near by. Tiny black tendrils traced up his hand, and the child looked visibly relieved, even though they didn’t understand what was going on.

Stiles watched him do this a number of times, even some of the older children or adults. They didn’t know exactly why it felt better being around Derek, but they did. His eyes pinched a bit depending on the severity of the pain he was absorbing. He continued to read the story in his lap, as though that were the only thing in his world at the moment. Turning to Cora, Stiles looked a bit broken. 

“You want to know why?”

Stiles and Lydia just nodded their heads.

“How much do you think it sucks being in here for Christmas. Most of those kids in there are from the cancer side. Some of the adults in there are from Maternity. Being stuck in a hospital at the best of times is awful. Derek comes here to help with some of the pain that the drugs can’t touch. Reassure some of the parents who are scared shitless of the fact they and their kids are stuck here. And in some cases, he even goes and snuggles the premies because something about the warmth from a werewolf helps boost their immunities and gives them a better shot of getting out of here sooner. He takes his job as protector of Beacon Hills very seriously. Well. He has the last 6 or so years anyway.”

Lydia simply smacked Stiles in the chest.

“You married a Saint and you wanted to spy on him.”

Stiles glowered at her for a moment but deflated pretty quickly. Yup. He wanted to spy on Saint Derek. In his defence he didn’t have a clue that this was even a reality.

“I’ll see you this afternoon at your Dad’s place Stiles. I’ve got the wine in my car and I won’t tell Derek what you’ve been up to. Lyds. Say hey to Parrish for me?”

Nodding her head, she all but dragged Stiles out.

In the elevator, he sighed heavily.

“He’s too good for me.”

Lydia looked over at her friend with a sympathetic smile.

“Stiles. He didn’t really start doing this stuff until around when you guys got married. I’d say that he probably picked up the bug to do this kind of thing because of you. Rather than in spite of you.”

Stiles sighed an nodded.

“Don’t get me wrong. We are definitely going to hell for stalking and spying on Saint Derek. But isn’t it better than thinking that he spent his Christmas mornings depressed and alone?

“Well if you’re going to be logical about it…”

“Let’s head down to the station. Jordan and your Dad are almost off. Lets just…pretend that we aren’t horribly curious people, and have a great Christmas with the people we care about. Jordan and I will come by for games night after dinner. Sound good?”

Stiles nodded, sending them off in the direction of the Station.

***

“You did what?”

Stiles had recapped for his dad the entirety of their morning of spying on Derek, and everything they had seen. The Sheriff pinched the bridge of his nose and shook his head. He was trying to be annoyed with his son he really was, but on the other hand, he was not in the least bit surprised. Maybe that it had taken him THIS long to do it. The Sheriff of course knew all about it. He’d been able to keep Stiles’ mornings occupied but this year he was short handed at the station and had no such luck.

“Yup. I stalked and spied on my husband the saint and you don’t seem the least bit surprised about what I’ve told you that Derek does in his spare time.”

“I’m the Sheriff, Stiles. For everything he’s doing he needed someone to do a criminal background check on him and given what’s in there, SOMEONE had to endorse him. So yes. I knew.”

The elder Stilinski finished setting the table, including to add the place setting for Peter. Stiles set himself to work in the kitchen, getting the food started for their later dinner. It wasn’t a full turkey, or a full ham, but there were easily a half dozen other meats that were being grilled, roasted, rotisseried, slow cooked, or smoked that would keep their hungry werewolf relations sated. The vegetables had been prepared the night before, most of them only requiring a run through the oven to warm them up, or were intended to be served cold. The various breads were also prepared and ready for warming. Cora was bringing the wine and as with past years, Derek was bringing a cheese platter.

Stiles as a little worried about what Peter might end up bringing.

Feeling a horrible feeling in the pit of his stomach, he knew exactly why he was feeling so guilty. He knew that it wasn’t a trust issue with Derek, in any way shape or form. That wasn’t even a consideration.

“Dad. Do I have control issues?”

His father shrugged his shoulders which wasn’t that comforting to be honest.

“Given everything you guys dealt with when you were a teenager? The utter lack of control you’ve experienced in your life, I think all of you do to a degree. Derek with his need to be the city protector. You with needing to make sure you know where everyone is and how everyone is doing. Lydia’s a banshee who gets psychic visions about those closest to her whether she wants them or not. Parrish…lets not even go down that rabbit hole. I wouldn’t say it’s control issues Son, I’d say it’s fear of the unknown, and given how many times you’ve all nearly been killed…”

He just shrugged again.

Looking up when the door opened, the Sheriff looked to make sure it was expected company. Derek, Cora and Peter all walked in. Without looking at the clock, Stiles knew it was 12 noon on the dot. Watching his Dad hug his son-in-law and Cora, and exchange a pleasant handshake with Peter, he bid them all to join him in the living room. Stiles dragged his feet down the hallway and greeted Peter and Cora sheepishly. 

Seeing Derek, his heart felt full to bursting with a newfound appreciation of the man who had agreed to put up with him “Till Death Do Them Part”.

“Merry Christmas Derek.”

“Merry Christmas Stiles. So.”

He gave his husband a rather pointed look.

“Have an eventful morning?”

Casting a glare at Cora and Peter, they both shook their heads.

“Nope. This one is all on you buddy. We didn’t say anything except to confirm what he already guessed.”

Stiles’ face crumbled at the look Derek gave him. Retreating back to the kitchen, he heard Derek come behind him and wrap his arms around his him, pulling him tightly against his chest. Pressing a kiss to the back of Stiles’ head, he sighed a tired sigh, turning his husband around to just let him cry it out against his chest. Running a soothing hand along Stiles spine, Derek planted a soft kiss on his mess of a husband’s forehead.

“You’re…not pissed?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

Derek snorted and shook his head.

“Because you wouldn’t be you if you didn’t do something like this, rather than just ask me point blank what it is that I did on Christmas morning. You poked and prodded but never actually asked.”

“You never offered.”

Derek nodded his head, conceding that point as well.

“I still sometimes have that unsettling feeling in the back of my mind that I’ll get that pitying look when I tell people what I do for volunteer time on Christmas.”

“I’ve never given you that look. Like. Ever.”

Again, he had to agree. 

“Derek. What do you say to…”

Derek’s eyebrows twitched just slightly.  
“What do you say to us adopting a child?”

Derek felt a smile threaten to split his face in half.

“Are you sure?”

Stiles nodded, going back to the stove top to keep things from boiling over or burning.

“I know there’s going to be lots of steps involved. Probably have to go in to the FBI database and try and fix your criminal background checks, but given that you’re a high school teacher it shouldn’t be a problem. But Derek.”

Setting his wooden spoon down, he crossed back over to where his husband was leaning against the counter and smiled. Kissing him gently.

“I very much want to spend my life with you. I want to grow old together and chase the neighbour’s kids off our front lawn. Maybe have to turn the hose on you for trying to eat the mail man. But seeing you with those kids today…”

Stiles sighed that sappy adorable sigh that just clung to his soul.

“…I want to lay in bed with you and listen to the scampering of feet running down the hall about to leap into bed to wake us up. And play dates with Lydia and Jordan’s little bundle. I want to see the Hale family rebuild.”

“You want to put down roots.”

“And make family ties.”

Derek wrapped his arms firmly around Stiles, lifting him up and pressing a firm kiss to his husband’s mouth. Smiling bright enough to be seen from orbit, Derek nodded his head with great enthusiasm.

“Stiles Stilinski-Hale…”

“Nuh-uh. I get to ask. You proposed to me. I get this one.”

Derek laughed and indicated that his husband should go right ahead.

“Derek Stilinski-Hale. Will you do me the honour, of joining me on the journey to become a father? Through potty training and puberty.”

“Till skipped curfews give us a heart attack?”

“Forever and ever.”

Derek laughed an nodded.

“Yes Stiles. Yes I most definitely will.”

Exchanging a quick kiss, Stiles cleared the tiny kitchen just barely fast enough to keep the potatoes from boiling over, he shifted them off the heat and drained them. Grabbing a beer for his father out of the fridge, a wine for himself, and ‘werewolf tailored’ mead for Derek, Cora and Peter, Stiles and Derek went to the living room to share the news of what their next life adventure was going to be. 

The expected congratulations made their rounds in the small family room, holding the equally small family. The Sheriff got to his feet, a broad smile on his face, grabbed a framed photo and his cell phone to take a picture. 

Looking at the photo with curiosity, Stiles found himself grinning like an idiot. Derek was on one knee, in front of Stiles, in front of a Christmas tree. Brushing a fallen tear from the glass, Stiles went to wipe his face, only to find it dry. Looking up at Derek whose eyes were brimming with unshed tears, Stiles wiped them from his face, smiling as Derek kissed the palm of his hand. Looking at the date on the frame, it was dated 6 years previous.

“A lot can happen on Christmas Day I guess.”

Letting out a barking laugh, Derek nodded.

“Only a few life changing events. You know. No big deal.”

Cora wiped a discreet tear from the corner of her eye. Peter didn’t even try to hide what he was feeling, too happy to give a damn about saving face. 

“Merry Christmas Derek.”

“Merry Christmas Stiles.”

“Say ‘Baby’ boys.”

Grinning like idiots, they were blinded by the flash of the camera, looking forward to an exciting but uncertain future.

***

One year later, the framing of the photo would be similar, but this time, instead of holding a photo frame, Stiles held their daughter, Elizabeth, while Derek held their son, Tobias. 


End file.
